Considered to be the heir to Christie’s mystery throne, Tey is a decent enough writer in terms of creating character, location and setting social norms. She made me feel for the Sharpe women and loathe Betty, but she failed in the payoff department. After all that hostility directed towards the Sharpes, we get no vindication on their part either from the villagers with pitchforks or Betty. There’s no comeuppance for anyone. No one is punished. No one feels shame. No one apologizes. It’s such a let down.

Another let down was the lack of motivation on Betty’s part. As a reader I’m left to fill in all those little psychological blanks myself. Betty was unhappy. Betty was no longer the object of intense attention. Betty was oversexed. Betty was a little vixen, a manipulator and a liar. But what made her that way? Why did she pick on these women? What put this outlandish idea into her head? I mean, I get that she was in an awkward position after being confronted by her man’s wife, but to attack two total strangers is just plain psychotic. I wish there had been more insight into that aspect of the crime rather than the angry villagers thing. Nice that there’s a flicker of hope for the romance in the end though. ( )

Nominally an Inspector Grant book (number 3 in the 6 book series) this is less about Grant - who barely makes an appearance - and more about Robert Blair, a wills and probate solicitor in a small town. At the beginning of the book, he is becoming aware that he is in a rut and whilst tradition is nice and steady, there is perhaps, something more missing, but he doesnt know what. He is almost out the door when his phone goes. Marion Sharpe is in need of help. She, along with her mother, has been accused of kidnapping and holding a young girl hostage in their decrepit and lonely house. The girl's testimony is both specific and vague enough to be almost impossible to disprove, and a lack of proof that they didnt do it is likewise almost impossible to prove.

Blair agrees to provde legal support as best he can, despite not being a criminal lawyer, and as he gets involved with Marion and the case, finds he wants to continue giving both legal and emotional support. He does everything to help the women out, instigating investigations and doing the checks that the police seem unwilling or constrained not to take forward. Initially the police are not willing to press charges on the basis there is nothing more than one person's word against another. However, the national press get involved and soon whip the reading public's emotions into a frenzy, making the police reinvestigate the issue, and the women’s case makes its’ way into the assizes.

Considering how old this book is (first published in 1948) it’s both interesting and sad how little things have changed – especially around the press, and the general reading public, who takes things on the face of it. As expected the case appears for one day on the front page, they present a judgement on the Sharpes verses the innocent-looking 15 year old Betty, and the letters page (today’s Comment section) is inundated until late the following week with hysteria – which leads to some windows being smashed at The Franchise. However, it has almost died down when another gutter publication (previous heroes including a left wing killer being persecuted by his government who – shock – want to lock him up for being a “patriot” for killing people). Sadly things have not changed much as of today, only the vehicle.

The dénouement comes late in the story and is much of luck as anything. It leads to a showdown in court with the testimony of Betty being pulled apart and the façade of her innocence being shown to be false to all who were willing it to be true.

In a word, delightful. It's no surprise to me that I enjoy a 1940s british mystery. Tey crafts interesting characters, a suspenseful plot, and good dialogue, and I don't need much more in a mystery. Also, this was a folio society publication and that of course made it even more fun to read. ( )

Ho-hum, another book and author I had never heard of before LT. I honestly can’t remember what kind of books I read BLT (Before LT) but since 2009 I’ve discovered a boatload of really, really good books by people I never heard of yet were well-known and very highly regarded in their time. Josephine Tey joins a long line of such authors. She has been called one of the best (maybe THE best) mystery writers of all time and if The Franchise Affair is any indication, I can see why.

Robert Blair was about to call it a day at his prestigious law firm when the phone rang. On the other end was Marion Sharpe who, along with her mother, resided at the fairly run down country house known as the Franchise. It seems she and her mother were in a fair amount of trouble and even though Blair’s firm handled mostly wills and estates and had never had a criminal case in all their years of existence, Robert agreed to help the women out. They were being accused of abducting, beating and holding a young girl, Betty Kane, prisoner in their home. He was startled to discover, as was Scotland Yard Inspector Alan Grant, that even though the women claimed that the girl had never been in their home, she knew an awful lot about the house in general and the attic room where she was supposedly held, in particular. Yet there’s something about Kane’s story that just doesn’t seem right to solicitor Blair, and he settles in to investigate an unbelievable mystery. The fact that Tey reached back into history where a crime very much like this took place makes it all the more unbelievable.

Tey’s prose is smooth and delightful and moves the narrative along at breakneck speed. The book was first published in 1948 and I expected it to be dated but saw no evidence of that at all. Her deft touch produced many memorable moments and her sense of humor shined through on more than one occasion. The neighborhood where the Franchise is located might be described as sketchy and Marion Sharpe warns Blair that he can leave his car overnight:

”’Shouldn’t leave your car. Take it with you.’

‘But it’s quite a little way isn’t it?’

‘Maybe, but it’s Saturday.’

‘Saturday?’

‘School’s out.’

‘Oh, I see. But there’s nothing in it---‘ ‘to steal,’ he was going to say but amended it to ‘Nothing that’s movable.’

‘Movable! Huh! That’s good. We had window boxes once. Mrs. Laverty over the way had a gate. Mrs. Biddows had two fine wooden clothes posts and eighteen yards of clothes rope. They all thought they weren’t movable. You have your car there for ten minutes you’ll be lucky to find the chassis.’” (Page 109)

And what a stroke of luck that I have six more Tey mysteries to read. Very highly recommended.( )

Wikipedia in English

None

▾LibraryThing members' description

Book description

Robert Blair was about to knock off from a slow day at his law firm when the phone rang. It was Marion Sharpe on the line, a local woman of quiet disposition who lived with her mother at their decrepit country house, The Franchise. It appeared that she was in some serious trouble: Miss Sharpe and her mother were accused of brutally kidnapping a demure young woman named Betty Kane. Miss Kane's claims seemed highly unlikely, even to Inspector Alan Grant of Scotland Yard, until she described her prison — the attic room with its cracked window, the kitchen, and the old trunks — which sounded remarkably like The Franchise. Yet Marion Sharpe claimed the Kane girl had never been there, let alone been held captive for an entire month! Not believing Betty Kane's story, Solicitor Blair takes up the case and, in a dazzling feat of amateur detective work, solves the unbelievable mystery that stumped even Inspector Grant.

-------------------

Very snug indeed was Robert Blair’s life as a bachelor solicitor in Milford, England. He wouldn’t have been a man, though, if he hadn’t noticed the two women who lived in the atrocious Regency mansion known as “The Franchise.” He thought the older woman very, very forbidding, and the younger — well, not quite so forbidding.

Now, it seemed, both mother and daughter were in trouble — accused of imprisoning a young girl for a whole month, beating and half starving her. The victim was Betty Kane, a girl in a modest school-girl dress, with candid slate-blue eyes, and an appealing look of innocence. Betty remembered what had happened perfectly, and told a heart-rending tale of terror and escape.

But if Betty had not been at The Franchise, where had she been for a whole month, and what was she doing? With every sentimentalist mourning over “poor Betty Kane,” and a blatant tabloid fanning the flames, the women were in danger from more hands than those of the law.

-------------------

The Franchise Affair resembles some of the best work of Poe in its introduction of an apparently inhuman evil in an otherwise sedate country setting. Robert Blair, a lawyer who prides himself on his ability to avoid work of any significance, is interrupted one evening by a phone call from Marion Sharpe. Ms. Sharpe and her mother live in a run-down estate known as the Franchise, and their lives drew little attention until Betty Kane charged them with an unthinkable crime. Ms. Kane, having disappeared for a month, now says that she was held captive in the attic of the Franchise during her entire absence. While her story seems absurd, her recollection of minute details about the interior of the house sway even Scotland Yard.

Blair — who Ms. Sharpe has chosen for her defense because, as she says, he is "someone of my own sort"— must dust off his neurons and undertake some serious sleuthing if his client is to beat these serious charges. As with all fine mysteries, one has the sense of being in a sea of clues with a solution just out of reach. The Franchise Affair is a classic mystery, and also a superb record of country life in early twentieth century England.

Though Josephine Tey is not, perhaps, as well known as Agatha Christie, her contribution to the Golden Age of mysteries is unquestioned. In contrast to Christie, Tey rejected formulas and long-running series in favor of experimentation with new settings and odd conjunctions of character and subject matter. Her historical tale The Daughter of Time is frequently cited as one of the greatest mysteries of all time.

The Franchise Affair resembles some of the best work of Poe in its introduction of an apparently inhuman evil in an otherwise sedate country setting. Robert Blair, a lawyer who prides himself on his ability to avoid work of any significance, is interrupted one evening by a phone call from Marion Sharpe. Ms. Sharpe and her mother live in a run-down estate known as the Franchise, and their lives drew little attention until Betty Kane charged them with an unthinkable crime. Ms. Kane, having disappeared for a month, now says that she was held captive in the attic of the Franchise during her entire absence. While her story seems absurd, her recollection of minute details about the interior of the house sway even Scotland Yard. Blair--who Ms. Sharpe has chosen for her defense because, as she says, he is "someone of my own sort"--must dust off his neurons and undertake some serious sleuthing if his client is to beat these serious charges. As with all fine mysteries, one has the sense of being in a sea of clues with a solution just out of reach. The Franchise Affair is a classic mystery, and also a superb record of country life in early twentieth century England. --Patrick O'Kelley

Marion Sharpe and her mother seem an unlikely duo to be found on the wrong side of the law. But Betty Kane accuses them of kidnap and abuse in their country home, The Franchise. It takes Robert Blair, solicitor turned amateur detective, to solve the mystery that lies at the heart of The Franchise Affair.… (more)